'As for the price, Humphrey,' said Mr. Boscorel, 'that shall be my care. It is nearly certain that Sir Christopher's estates will be confiscated, seeing that he died in prison under the charge of high treason, though he was never tried. Therefore we must not look to his lands for any help. What this gentleman proposes is, however, so great a thing that we must not hesitate to accept his offer gratefully.' 'I must have,' said Mr. Penne, 'seventy pounds for each prisoner. I hear that there is a third young gentleman of your party now in the same trouble at Ilminster; I shall therefore ask for two hundred guineas--two hundred guineas in all. It is not a large sum in order to secure freedom. Those who cannot obtain this relief have to work in the fields or in the mills under the hot sun of the Spanish Main; they are subject to the whip of the overseer; they have wretched food; they are worse treated than the negroes, because the latter are slaves for life and the former for ten years only. By paying two hundred guineas only you will all be enabled to live at your ease. Meanwhile, your friends at home will be constantly endeavouring to procure your pardon. I myself, though but a simple merchant of Bristol City, can boast some influence, which I will most readily exert to the utmost in your behalf'---- 'Say no more, Sir,' said Mr. Boscorel, interrupting him; 'the bargain is concluded. These young gentlemen shall not be subjected to any servitude; I will pay you two hundred guineas.' 'I would, Sir'--Mr. Penne laid his hand, which was large, white, and soft, the hand of a liar and a traitor, upon his treacherous heart--'I would to Heaven, Sir,' he said, 'that I could undertake this service for less. If my correspondents were men of tender hearts, the business should cost you nothing at all. But they are men of business; they say that they live not abroad for pleasure, but for profit; they cannot forego any advantage that may offer. As for me, this job brings me no profit. Upon my honour, gentlemen, profit from such a source I should despise: every guinea that you give me will be placed to the credit of my correspondents, who will, I am assured, turn a pretty penny by the ransom of the prisoners. But that we cannot help. And as for me--I say it boldly in the presence of this learned and pious clergyman--I am richly rewarded with the satisfaction of doing a generous thing. That is enough, I hope, for any honest man.'